


The Last Therapist

by MalthusIndex Old Shames (MalthusIndex)



Series: Cephalon Malthus [1]
Category: Warframe
Genre: Artificial Intelligence, F/F, Identity Issues, M/M, Memory Alteration, Memory Loss, Past Relationship(s), Psychological Trauma, Story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-05-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:42:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24168295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MalthusIndex/pseuds/MalthusIndex%20Old%20Shames
Summary: (DEAD FIC, I'm no longer planning to work on this)Terminus. The fall of the Orokin. For every deserved kill, dozens of others were targeted simply for doing their job, and Matus is no exception. His consciousness may have been saved, but his life - and every part of his past that mattered - was ripped away from him. He represents a part of the Orokin Empire that many forgot - the part that tried to help the Tenno and were killed all the same.
Series: Cephalon Malthus [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1744339
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	The Last Therapist

**Author's Note:**

> After writing the original version of The Therapist and not being too happy with where it went, I decided to scrap it and create a new version that's more... coherent and planned out. It's not going to follow the same story beats, so if you've read through The Therapist already, it's not just a remake of the exact same story.

“You know fine well they’re not going to accept you into the project, not with your opinions. They’d barely even accept each other if they weren’t all in it together.”

The distant rushing sounds of the immense artificial waterfall that acted as the _Gilded_ ’s central landmark made focusing easy. Said sounds had, of course, been perfectly constructed using only the finest rocks and golden embellishments, producing background ambience that was the sheer _essence_ of a natural waterfall.

Like all things the Orokin created, it still lacked heart.

Out of the two men who were sitting near the water, Matus was the only one who was truly familiar with how the entire area had been built. He had explored every nook and cranny, often putting himself at risk of death purely to fix anything that had broken before his overseers caught wind of the problem. When you lived among perfectionists as an engineer, you had no choice.

In a nice change of pace, the two were mostly alone, having avoided the rush times due to their strange schedules. With nobody to overhear, he was able to give a much more coherent and direct response to Apra’s point. “I know they’re not _going_ to, but there’s no harm in thinking about it! I know you’ve thought about being one of them too.”

“Well, yes, but I _work for them_ already.” Adjusting his formal clothing, Apra pointed to the small golden crest badge that was attached on his left breast. “They have logistical needs, so they need me to coordinate everything.”

“Yes, _and_ they need engineers too!”

“I’m not saying they don’t, but if they want somebody to work on something that confidential, they’re not going to pick Matus Doros, they’ll choose… well, probably one of the other members of their little social club.”

Leaning back slightly and using his hands to steady himself on the smooth white flooring, the engineer sighed, running a hand through his slightly greasy hair. “Hm, you’ve got me there. I can’t say I’d blame them for it. I just want a chance to talk to the Tenno, you know?”

“I support your ambitions, but I don’t think they’re feasible-“

“Appy, you’re… a good man. Personally, I’d say you’re the best man in this entire society.” Reaching out to touch his lover’s cheek with his mildly scarred palm, Matus let slip a genuine smile. “I won’t do anything that keeps us apart, you know that.”

The flow of the waterfall gave Apra a way to calm himself, letting his mind focus on the quiet splashing and the way the small clouds of foam generated as it made contact with the lake. All of this, _everything_ here, was man-made, and Matus had played quite a large part in keeping it running. That relaxation brought up a few memories that had slipped his mind earlier, something that was annoyingly common these days. “Did you hear that they finally converted her?”

“What? Who?”

“The Archimedian, the older one. The nice lady? Came over to request some Forma from me one time?”

Apra smirked at the way that Matus’ face transitioned from confusion to an expression of surprise. “Oh, _her_! Su… something. Suvanah?”

“Susana. It’s a huge shame, really. I didn’t talk to her often, but she was extremely nice, and her age didn’t slow her down one bit, until…”

“Her memory.”

“You’ve spoken to her, haven’t I you, Matus? I thought you two met at least once. She asked you to repair her Hydraulis, I think.”

“That was _her_?” Matus reaches up and stretched at the back of his messy hair, doing hair best to satisfy whatever itch had cropped up. “I thought that was her wife. Before, you know… Executor Ballas and his pet project got involved, and _then_ she started to forget things…”

“It’s really unfortunate.” Shrugging and looking down at his reflection in the extensively-purified water, Apra noticed just how _tired_ his eyes looked today. “I’m not sure if there’s anything she could have done to prevent it, but she definitely doesn’t deserve a fate that horrible. Can you imagine just… forgetting it all?”

“Sometimes I wish I could, honestly.” Flashing a few quick glances around to make sure that there were no Dax guards patrolling nearby, the engineer leaned his upper body in, dropping his voice to a slightly more hushed tone. ”Except you, darling, of course.”

Unable to show affection without a high chance of drawing attention from the few other inhabitants of the man-made promenade, Apra settled for a polite nod and a subtle flushing of his cheeks. The two weren’t necessarily scared of their relationship being discovered, but you had to be careful when you served Executors directly. If one didn’t like you, they could quite easily remove you from the picture… or your loved ones. “I know I say it a lot, but I love you.”

“I love you too, Appy.”

_Thump. Thump._

Loud, measured beats from the Naga drums sent subtle vibrations through the air, giving them both pause. The salute to the Tenno, a declaration of respect for the work they had done - a respect that they had worked hard to achieve. Apra remembered hearing about this ceremony while attending to some of the shipping and transportation involved, and realised that it was being broadcast across the entirety of the Orokin Empire.

_Thump. Thump._

Matus cleared his throat, coughing slightly as he did so. “Ugh… it looks like we missed the celebration. I didn’t really want to take part, but I hope they don’t care.”

A handful of Dax against one of the far walls stood to attention as one of their peers approached, his hand laid carefully but purposefully on the grip of his hip-sheathed sword. Apra didn’t immediately see anything wrong with that, but after a few moments of talking amongst themselves, the group quickly made their way to the nearest door and hurried out.

_Thump. Thump._

As it opened, the sound of the drums got ever so slightly clearer, only to muffle again once it closed.

“Hey, Matus… where did they say they we hosting it again?”

“Here. I _think_ , anyway. I’m not really told about these things.”

“That doesn’t surprise me in the slightest, they didn’t tell me either. They probably only want the cream of the crop to attend.”

Still, something about hearing those drums after so long made Apra… calm. It was almost like the sensation of finally getting to rest in your own bed after a long day.

_Thump. Thump._

All of their suffering - the suffering of both the Orokin and all who served or supported them - was finally over, and the war had been officially won.

“Well, we did it! Want to go and get a drink, Appy? I think we both deserve some time to relax.”

“I suppose nobody will mind if I’m a few minutes late. Where were you thinking? We could go to the Gilded Garden and grab something to eat instead. I don’t want you drunk on your shift.”

_Thump. Thump._

“Have you ever _seen_ me drunk? One drink won’t hurt.”

“...alright, why not? We’ve been through a lot together, you and me.” Pushing himself up from the cold white floor, Apra took a second to adjust his clothing, making sure that he hadn’t ruffled any of the decorative materials too badly. “We should get going, I bet they’ll be full once the ceremony is over.”

_Thump._

The second beat didn’t follow.

It really could have been anything: a pause for effect, a break for somebody to speak, or even just the end of the ceremonial beats altogether. Whatever it was, it didn’t sit right with the logistics manager. His brain felt… slightly shaken by the unusual, sudden pause, and his stubborn body decided to follow suit. “What happened?”

“What?”

“What happened to the drums?”

Before Matus was able to supply a suitable answer, the sounds of gunfire erupted from beyond the many doors of the open promenade, occasionally interspersed with the dying yells of slain victims and violent roars of the other combatants outside. Momentarily frozen in surprise, the two had no idea how to react as one set of them burst open, a Rhino Warframe leading the charge as it catapulted three poor Dax into the air.

Betrayal.

Grabbing his partner by the arm and pulling him to his feet, Apra turned and ran, hoping that the open space of the Promenade gave them enough room to slip away unnoticed.

\---

Lyri felt nothing as she beheaded the Orokin Executor in front of her, watching his neck split in two as his warm body collapsed to the pristine floor. All around here was more of the same: Tenno taking their frustrations out on anybody they could find. Some sliced, others ripped, and a few simply turned their targets into little more than a pile of unrecognisable remains and tattered clothing. It was unrepentant slaughter.

She didn’t care.

After all they had put her through, all of the abuse she had suffered at the hands of these men and women that claimed to be her superiors. They weren’t fit to run a social club, let alone a society, and their weakness was finally showing.

All of the Dax were dead. They had been the first to fight back, so they were the first to die, just like the Tenno had been taught: strike quickly, strike effectively and disable the enemy. It was ironic, but she wasn’t laughing, not even at the rush of adrenaline and satisfaction the violence made her feel. It was just a dull pain, more emotional than physical.

Nobody deserved to die today. She didn’t _want_ to hurt these people, but she didn’t really have a choice, because letting this society collapse in on itself was for the best. She _had_ to hurt them, like they _had_ to hurt her.

Through her Excalibur, she had become a whirling wheel of death, constantly slashing at whoever was in reach. Executors, Archimedans, Dax, workers and slaves all fell to the flaming blade of energy produced by her own Warframe, each swing producing a ripple of power that was strong enough to dismember a person from across the room.

The Promenade was her first stop. Every Orokin here _had to die_ , and the tears in her eyes wouldn’t detract from that goal in try slightest, nor would the doubts echoing in her head with every cut that caused a fatal wound.

The Naga drums had fallen silent, and the only beat was that of her heart as the battle raged on, fewer and fewer opponents arriving around each corner as she systematically ended the lives of every non-Tenno in her oath. They weren’t just getting scared, they were _running out_ , and no amount of automatic turrets or vaguely threatening laser traps would make up for the loss in manpower,

She could stop have stopped right there and still watched the Orokin Empire fall now that they were past the point of no return, but still she sliced, gutting and bisecting each man and woman in her way.

Each time, she tried to say sorry, to explain herself, but she couldn’t, because there was no explanation to _give._ From the moment she had understood that they were going to revolt, she had known that this day would leave her branded a traitor. No amount of mercy and pacifism would make the Orokin consider sparing her.

It didn’t take long for the ceremonial hall to be drained of all Orokin life, leaving nothing but Tenno and a handful of genetically-engineered servants who were utterly confused at the sudden loss of their masters. While many of her fellow war machines ran for key areas of the Tower, she decided to turn to the nearest maintenance corridor instead. If killing was inevitable, at least she could offer the poor workers a swift death compared to those around her.

Within ten seconds of entering the dark, poorly-lit guts of the immense structure, she ran into somebody coming the other way. The dim conditions made it hard to tell who, but her Skana cut them down before they could speak, a wet gurgle serving as their last words.

“I’m sorry.”

A few moments later, another bumped into her Excalibur’s chest, clearly confused by the alarms that had begun blaring in the distance. They, too, were soon silenced.

“I’m _sorry_!”

More and more - workers, civilians, soldiers, she didn’t even _know_ \- fell before her as she began to exterminate everything in her way. The only reason she was still going was through the rage and hatred the Orokin had beaten into her, and her body continued to kill before her brain could stop her. They all had to die. This society _had_ to die.

Before she knew it, she had reached the other end of the hallway, her Warframe splattered with blood from her victims. Forcing open the door with a swift set of slashes, she shoulder-rammed it open and found herself face to face with part of the waterworks that ran through the entire Tower. A pump room of sorts, wide and spacious but somehow still claustrophobic.

There were three hiding here, terrified of whatever had chased them there. It wasn’t her concern.

Sheathing her Skana and activating the Exalted Blade, she forced the Void energy in her Warframe to channel itself into a blade, ripping it out through one palm. The sudden light made the three survivors - two men and a woman - turn.

The woman was closest, and didn’t get a chance to yell.

Bisecting her down the middle, Lyri wasted no time in throwing the two halves aside and advancing closer to the two men, her weapon glowing with a strong blue crackling light.

“”I’m on your side!”

She paused. She had no response to give, but she paused.

“I’m… we’re sympathisers! We tried to help you!”

 _Interesting_.

Raising the blade at the one who had spoken, a tired-looking and unkempt engineer, she held her rage back for but a moment. “Explain.”

“I tried to get into the Warframe project as an engineer, I wanted to… to give you emotional support! They wouldn’t let me in because I wasn’t willing to sacrifice my partner here-“

“Prove it.” Her blade inched closer.

“I… can’t. Neither of us can.”

By all logic, she should have killed them. A failure to present proof should have motivated her to do it, yet… they seemed _honest_. She had their backs against the wall and a weapon to their throats, but they weren’t trying to beg for a deal or making up excuses on the spot. “You have to die.”

“Says who?”

“ _What?_ ”

“Why do we _have_ to die?”

Lyri thought for a moment, showing no intention of lowering her guard. “You just _do_! You’re Orokin! This society has to be burned to the ground!”

There was an extended pause, and Lyri prepared to run them both through right then and there, but a moment before she could thrust the engineer spoke again. “It already has.”

“Terminus is only a small part! There are millions of you left to-“

“Tenno, you… already won. If everybody in that ceremony is dead, you’ve probably killed… I don’t know… _eighty percent_ of the ruling caste. Is that... right, Appy?”

From behind his shoulder, a formal but meek-looking man stopped his whimpering to reply. “Yes, r-roughly eighty… including most of the Warframe project...”

“See? Even if we were your enemy, our leaders are dead. We all only did our jobs because they demanded it-“

Lyri stepped forward, her blade almost pressing on the man’s neck. “You were cogs in this machine! Unlike you, we had no choices, no way to decide our future.”

To her surprise, the engineer leaned forward and spread his arms, inviting her to strike. “Now you do. There is no wrong choice here - just _a choice_. Do we live, or do we die?”

She was paralysed.

For the first time in her life since becoming what she was, Lyri was being given a choice to kill. Full consent to choose had been given, and she was in no apparent danger if she refused. “This is a trick.”

“I assure you, this is _not_ a trick. I’m nobody important or useful if I’m kept alive, and I can’t fight you if you decide to kill me, so you lose nothing either way.”

After what felt like a full minute of confused back-and-forth thinking, Lyri lowered her weapon, dispelling the Exalted Blade and placing her hand on the hill of her Skana. Her mind felt exhausted. “You get to live, and your partner too. Get out of here.”

“Thank you, Tenno.” Smiling, the engineer stretched out one hand and nodded to her. “I’m Matus, Matus Do-“

“ _Don’t touch me, Orokin filth!_ ”

The words came out of her mouth faster than her brain could tell her to prevent it, and her Warframe moved on instinct, drawing the Skana and using one fluid motion to separate the engineer’s arm from his body. His face flashed into frozen panic as he stumbled backwards, managing to land in the arms of his partner.

“Matus!” The other man clutched on to his wounded companion, taking a few moments to grip him tightly before trying to block the large bleeding area that used to be his shoulder. “W… why did you do that!?”

“I don’t _know_! _I’m sorry!_ ”

“Stop the bleeding! Help me stop the bleeding! No, no, _no_ …”

“How!? I can’t!”

“Just _do something, you murderer_!”

Murderer.

The other Orokin… they didn’t feel like murders. She had been acting under the logic they had forced into her over the course of months, _years_ , but this? _Murder,_ by her own choice. “It’s okay, he’s not dead, and we can-!”

“We can _what_!? He’s going to die!”

“This Warframe doesn’t have healing powers, I can’t remember how to-!”

\---

_Remember._

Apra knew what he had to do. Susana. Her memory problems.

 _Cephalons_.

Cradling Matus in his arms, he looked up at the Excalibur who had just sliced off his lover’s limb and felt the anger inside him turn into sheer determination. It felt like his body was prepared to go onto overdrive and do whatever it could to save his partner. “Help me carry him to the Cephalon chamber near here! _Now_!”

To his surprise, she complied, grabbing Matus’ bleeding form and planting him on her shoulder with one arm. ‘Which way?”

“Through the corridors! Follow me!” Breaking off into a sprint, he charged through the remains of the slashed-up door and began to follow a winding path through the dim tunnels, occasionally slowing down to step over dismembered corpses in his way. He didn’t react to them. He had to save Matus.

Each corner he turned felt like a step closer to his destination, but also a step closer to the possibility of another Tenno who wasn’t so merciful. Whatever Matus had done to earn her temporary trust, it had been a fringe case, and he couldn’t even tell for sure that she wasn’t planning on cutting him down the moment they got out of here.

In less than a minute, he was able to locate and force open a grate leading directly to the Cephalon room. It was likely the same one Susana has used - and, as expected, all of the supplies were still there. The Tenno was right behind him with Matus, just as he had hoped. 

“Put him in the middle of the room!” Dashing over to a nearby set of ornate lockers, Apra opened them at once. “Please, please… yes!” A few small bottles of red liquid - something he had only witnessed from a distance and didn’t know the nature of - lay there for the taking. Grabbing one in each hand, he dashed back to Matus, who was barely breathing.

“What are you doing to him?”

“Get up to that console over there! Just activate it and stand back, then I’ll give him… whatever _this_ is!”

The Tenno ran off to the equally ornate computer as Apra took a long look at his dying partner, the adrenaline starting to wear off. This had to work. It _had_ to.

_It had to._

It was difficult to get Matus to ingest the thick substance, but after a few seconds of fiddling he somehow managed to get most of it down the engineer’s throat. A whirring sound filled the room as the Tenno turned on the console, and he desperately tried to remember the way the process worked. There were a million ways that this could go wrong and leave Matus gone for good, but there was no other option, not on a Tower infested with hostile Tenno.

“Okay… okay, I can do this.” Taking a deep breath, he let Matus’ body rest on the cold floor below a massive circular light, standing up to full height and throwing the empty vial of liquid away. “You are Cephalon… Ma… lth...us? Cephalon Malthus. You are the Therapist, Malthus.” His brain failed to come up with a third command, an instruction. “Me and her, these are the kinds of people you support. This is… is your sentence, Matus.”

Everything seemed to stop for a moment as the light above his head turned blue, then red, then pink in rapid succession. The life in his partner’s physical eyes faded as he expired, the blood loss finally ending his life.

From up above, a formless pink blob of energy emerged, projected from some of the equipment behind him.

“Matus?”

“... _who...?”_

It was done. Apra watched as what remained of his partner - little more than a mind - faded away into the Cephalon weave. At least he was safe, but it pained him to know that it had come to this. Turning to the Tenno, he looked at the other bottle of liquid in his hand and let out a nervous sigh, one that barely hid the sudden wave of hopelessness he felt deep inside him. "I’m not getting out of this Tower alive, not with the other Tenno here. I’m going to need your help."


End file.
